


Better Days

by Chelsea Frew (chelseafrew)



Category: Olympus Has Fallen (2013)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:10:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelseafrew/pseuds/Chelsea%20Frew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the night following the White House attack. No one is sleeping very well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starseverywhere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starseverywhere/gifts).



> My thanks to my recipient for allowing me to play with these characters, and also to C for checking the story out for me. Happy holidays!

The sound of his cell phone ringing dragged him from a fitful sleep he'd only recently fallen into. Mike snaked an arm out to where the phone rested on his night stand and squinted at the screen. It read "Private Caller." At 12:15 a.m. He sighed and accepted the call, holding the phone up to his ear and croaking, "Banning."

"Mike?" a young, tentative voice asked.

Mike sat straight up in bed. "Connor?"

"Mike, can you come to Camp David?" Connor inquired urgently.

Mike looked over to where Leah lay beside him. Miraculously, she was still asleep. He slipped out of bed and padded into the hallway to continue this conversation.

"Mike?" Connor demanded his attention again.

Shutting the bedroom door behind himself, Mike answered, "I'm here, Connor. What's wrong? Why do you need me to come to Camp David?" Ben had taken Connor and gone up to the retreat right after the first of what was bound to be many debriefings following the White House attack.

"Dad is having awful nightmares," Connor explained, his tone clearly expressing his worry.

Mike sighed. So he was not the only one. "How about you, kiddo? You having them, too?"

"Yes. Can you come, Mike?"

"Why do you think I'll be able to help?" Give him a gun and he could slay a slew of bad guys, but he was no psychiatrist.

"Because he keeps calling out for you."

Oh. Mike hauled in a deep breath and ran his free hand through his hair. "I don't know, Connor. I'm really not sure I'll be able to help."

"Please, Mike? Please come?" the young boy begged.

Mike had virtually no ability to resist Connor--never had. "Okay. I'm going to get dressed and head up there. It'll take me about two hours or so. Who's on duty tonight?"

"Jeremy."

Jeremy Weston. Mike knew him--a stroke of luck since many of the guys he knew had been killed. "I'll call and tell him I'm on the way. You try to go back to bed, okay?"

"Okay."

"See you soon, Connor," Mike said before hanging up the phone.

He headed back into the bedroom to discover that Leah was no longer asleep. Instead, she was sitting up waiting for him. He sat down on her side of the bed, and she turned to look at him. "Problem?" she wondered aloud.

"Connor called. He and Ben aren't doing so well, and Connor wants me to go up there to Camp David to help."

Leah smiled softly. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go."

Mike kissed her and then got up to throw on the first clothes he could find--a pair of black sweatpants and a grey t-shirt. With a quick goodbye to Leah, he headed to the front door, scooping his car keys from the table just inside the entryway. 

After driving through the nearest open-all-night McDonalds for the largest coffee they had to offer, he headed north towards the presidential retreat he hadn't been back to since the winter Margaret Asher had been tragically killed. Fortunately, the late hour meant he didn't have any traffic to fight, just a little bit of late night construction on I-270.

When he was about halfway there he called Weston and alerted him that he would be arriving in less than an hour at Connor's behest. Weston gave him the code to get through the front gates and told Mike he'd be waiting to personally let him into the compound.

He pulled up to the gates at a little past two a.m. The code worked like a charm, and Mike drove right up to the sidewalk leading to the front door, throwing the car into park and heading up the path and small flight of stairs at a jog. He didn't even need to knock. Weston let him in.

"Hey, man," Weston greeted him, holding out his hand.

Mike shook it firmly. "Hey. Connor in his room like I ordered him?"

"Yep. Go on up."

Mike followed the familiar route up the stairs to the room Connor used when they were at the retreat. The second he opened the door, sending light flooding into the little room, he found himself with an armful of boy.

"Mike!" Connor cried. "You came!"

Mike pulled him in tightly, feeling the boy snuggle right into his neck. "Of course I did. Now, I'll deal with your dad. You need to get some sleep, okay?"

"Stay with me until I fall asleep?" Connor bargained.

"Absolutely," Mike agreed, already carrying the First Son back to bed.

Connor crawled under the covers and let Mike tuck the blanket under his neck.

"Everything's going to be okay, buddy. I promise," Mike whispered.

Connor heaved the sigh of a young man who had already been through way too much in his young life. He turned over onto his side, and Mike rubbed his hand in gentle circles on the boy's back until he both felt and heard his breathing even out in sleep.

He pulled his hand from Connor's back slowly so as not to awaken him again, and when he turned to leave the room, he was startled to see a form standing in the doorway, blocking the light seeping in from the hallway.

"Ben," Mike acknowledged the familiar form, voice pitched at a whisper.

"Mike," the president returned, mimicking his friend's whisper. "What are you doing here?"

Mike stepped out into the hall and eased the door shut. "Connor called me. He was worried about you and asked me to come."

Ben grinned wryly. "At two in the morning?"

"Hey, when the First Kid calls, I come running." Mike returned the grin. He sobered quickly, though, and asked, "How are you doing? Connor said you were having nightmares."

"Let's go into the den, and I'll tell you all about it." Ben didn't wait for an answer, he simply led the way down the hallway.

Once in the den, Ben plopped himself onto the large sofa, and Mike sat down right next to him.

"So, how are you doing?" Mike repeated his question, his tone serious.

Ben heaved a huge sigh. "I've been better."

"Yesterday was rough," Mike noted succinctly

Ben tilted his head and lifted his eyebrows. "And the prize for Understatement of the Year goes to Mike Banning."

Mike met his gaze in apology. "Well…."

Ben shook his head. "I was an idiot, Mike."

"An idiot?"

"I let that maniac into the PEOC."

Mike reached out a comforting hand, resting it on Ben's thigh. "This was not your fault."

Ben shook his head again. "No, they all told me it wasn't procedure, but I insisted."

"Ben, Kang had an agenda and an inside man in Forbes. He was going to follow through with his plan, one way or another. There was nothing you could have done to stop that," Mike tried to convince him.

Ben hauled in a deep breath, "I almost lost everything today."

"But you didn't. Things are a little bruised and battered, but you're alive, Connor's alive, and your presidency is secure."

Ben looked Mike square in the eye. "Did I thank you for saving Connor?"

Mike smiled. "Several times."

"That is a debt I can never, ever repay. If anything had happened to him…." Ben shuddered at the thought, causing Mike to shift closer and wrap his arms around him. When he pulled away, Ben seemed more composed.

"He's such a smart boy, Ben. He did everything right," Mike praised Connor's actions during the mess that was the White House seizure. "He saved himself. You should be so, so proud of him."

"I am. Believe me, I am."

"You did great, too," Mike went on. "You kept yourself composed in an impossible situation. I know a lot of people lost their lives today, but it could have been even worse if you hadn't been strong."

Ben chuckled darkly. "I can't believe you ran into the building when everyone else was running out."

"Really? You can't believe it? Hi, have we met?" He held his hand out with a cocky smile.

"Thank God you did."

"Maybe it's a start in making up for what happened with Margaret," Mike said softly.

Ben twisted in his seat so his entire body was facing Mike's. "That was not your fault, Mike. I never blamed you. Not for one moment. It was an accident. A horrible, horrible accident."

It was Mike's turn to sigh and shake his head. "I should have been able to get her out."

"You did your best, Mike. You need to forgive yourself."

Mike shrugged, still not entirely convinced, but closer than he'd been in the entire eighteen months since that day on the bridge.

"You also need to come back and work for me," Ben added firmly. When Mike opened his mouth to protest, Ben shook his finger. "No, I won't take 'no' for an answer. I need you, Mike."

Slowly, Mike admitted, "I have missed it. I've missed you."

"Then it's settled. You're back on duty." Ben smiled the first real smile Mike had seen since they'd been reunited outside the PEOC.

Mike yawned. "Can I be back on duty tomorrow? I don't know about you, but I am exhausted. I had a long day yesterday."

"I'm due back for a press conference at noon tomorrow. We'll need to be up and at 'em in--" he consulted his watch, "--about four hours."

"You gonna be okay to sleep?" Mike asked.

Ben nodded. "I think so. You?"

"I'm willing to give it a shot." He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch. "I'll crash right here."

Taking the hint, Ben stood. He reached down and squeezed Mike's shoulder warmly. "Thanks, Mike, for being here."

"Well, it's my job."

Ben grinned. "See you in the morning."

"Night, Ben."

As he settled under the blanket to try to get some shut-eye, Mike felt himself relax for the first time in a long time. He was finally back where he belonged. He was back with the people he belonged with.

Tomorrow was going to be a better day.

End (3 December 2013)


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